FOT hasn’t contacted me since our date a week ago Monday. And you know, that’s OK. I wasn’t sure I was into him anyway.
I still made up all kinds of stories about it:
- I must’ve had a booger hanging out of my nose the whole evening.
- Since he paid for dinner, I was supposed to email him a thank-you afterward, but I didn’t, so he was offended. (What is the etiquette? Since I’ve always gone Dutch, I’m unclear.)
- He found my blog and didn’t like the fact that I wrote about him.
I suppose any of these could be true. Probably the blog though. He’s a software guy, and it doesn’t exactly take computer hacking skillz to find Avid Bruxist.
Maybe I shouldn’t blog about dating.
Is it fair? I don’t identify the men so I don’t think I’m breaking any moral codes.
Is it wise? Maybe not. Remember the very attractive man? A while back, one of my friends was asking about him because I didn’t do any follow-up. The reason I didn’t was because—OK, when I met him, he was seated and facing away from me the whole time. I arrived at our dinner date to find him standing outside the restaurant. I’m not going to say he was unattractive because he wasn’t. He was cute. But I hadn’t realized he was skinny. I mean, really skinny.
Here’s the thing about being a fat girl your whole life: skinny dudes make you feel even fatter. I felt like, if he pulled me onto his lap in a romantic moment, I would crack both his femurs. And then I’d have to take him to the hospital, and how embarrassing would that be to explain to the ER docs?
(It didn’t help that, during our meal, I got the feeling that I might emotionally break him too. He just seemed…fragile.)
So it wasn’t about him. It was about me. Feeling insecure about being with him. But I couldn’t write any of that because I was afraid he’d see it on the blog and it would hurt his feelings. (It’s been a long time, and I heard he was in a relationship, so I doubt he frequents this site now.)
In any case, y’all can’t seem to get enough of the dating stuff. My blog traffic goes way up on dating posts. Turns out, after The Bachelor, I’m your favorite single.
So I’ll keep hammering away at it.
You’re welcome.
amy, i think you should blog about whatever you like. if you don’t want to blog about your dating experiences, don’t. you can just email me directly with all the bluv details. because if you don’t, i will have very ugly withdrawal symptoms. (but this isn’t about me.)
do you think you’ll ever write to FOT?
for… closure? or anything?
or to see if he made it home safely from the date?
i know you aren’t accustomed to writing first…
in this case, he seemed like a very nice guy…
i mean, clearly, you don’t owe him anything…
i was just thinking it might be nice to say something like, “it was lovely meeting you” and… (whoa. i just tried to type a couple of sample breakup-over-email lines and i could barely do it. this is hard.)
no. you know what you’re doing.
i’m sorry FOT never wrote back.
but if he can’t handle boogers…
i was about to type something about how you could capitalize on this aspect of your blog and film reenactments of your dates, and charge per view…but i bet that is how porn started…
Melissa, I luv blogging about dating. It is really, really fun for me. So don’t worry about getting the shakes any time soon.
I don’t think I’ll write to him. I just like to be chased a little bit, you know? (*Chased*, not chaste.) It’s totally fine if he doesn’t want to pursue me. I want somebody who wants to pursue me.
Dug never called after I didn’t invite him back to my house either, by the way. And that’s MORE THAN OK by me.
Lindsay, hey, if it’ll pay the bills. Somebody else mentioned that I should start a podcast….
please don’t stop the dating blogs, i love them! really, please. if a guy can’t handle being blogged about then he should move back in with his mother, where he belongs, and abandon the dating world for something he’s more suited for, like canasta at the senior center
OK, Anna. I won’t stop. If you tell me to do something, I’ll do it because, with abs like yours, you’ve gotta know something about something. (Blog readers, you should see Anna’s abs. They’re like magic.)